Moving On
by Suffering Angel
Summary: It was a matter of time before the law caught up with him, but there was no way Tommy was dragging everyone down with him. It was time he moved on, anyway...


I don't own Young Avengers

* * *

**_Moving On_**

The Young Avengers disbanded. No one argued against that, regardless of how much they opposed that decision. They lost two members, and watched a friend and founder start down a path from which there was no return. They all made mistakes and needed time to lick their wounds. That was understandable, albeit frustrating, especially since some needed less time than others. Still, just because the team was... _on hiatus_ didn't mean they couldn't continue pulling off the super-heroics on their own, right? And besides, Tommy never hopped onboard the 'let's quit' bandwagon in the first place, so if he put on the tights and went out doing stupid things, no one had the right to stop him.  
They're the ones who dragged him into it in the first place, anyway...

Small crimes were easy to stop, painfully, boringly so, even. They took little time to find and even less time to thwart. The longest, hardest part was to find someone to call the authorities if they haven't already, and he took refuge long enough to see the fruits of his deeds. The cops taking in the bad guys; grateful citizens wishing they had seen the hero who pulled it off; and of course - smart-phones on the lookout for anything resembling colorful spandex. Those he had to keep clear from (which was easy enough at the speeds he was going), and they were a nice example of why he didn't go after bigger-baddies. The media attention was never why he did it, and now he had a nice motive to actively avoid it -  
If word got around, he wasn't sure Billy would survive it.

It was a good thing, too, he realized that one night, loitering around the scene in his civics and a baseball cap, taking in the glory of watching the cops cleaning up after him and the crowds muttering. It was then he over-heard two officers, detectives, maybe? He decided to lean just a bit closer to better hear. Maybe it was praise, or complaints he was doing their jobs, or oh, Pro-Registration propaganda? Those always made him laugh and want to puke at the same time.  
He felt the nausea right then, but it was for different reasons than he expected.

"It was the speedster again. The young one."

"That's the kid that got out of Juvie, right? We sure about that?"

"Who else could it be? Same power-set, white hair..."

Tommy tugged at his cap.

"Same age group, build, height, it all adds up. About _time_ we brought that punk in!"

"Why now, though? What did you wait for?"

There was a chuckle and a snarl that sent shivers down Tommy's spine.

"The baby-Avengers are gone after that disaster with Dr. Doom. He has no one backing him up."

"What about the actual Avengers? Can we really just take him in? They-"

"-are too busy elsewhere, fighting a war with the X-Men or something. Face it, the kid's on his own. I- huh?"

A minor whirlwind was all that remained in Tommy's wake. He heard all he needed to hear.

-

Safe. That was what the Kaplans' home was supposed to be for him. A place to stay, unwind at, figure things out. He didn't have to go home to parents who argued over who _wouldn't_ be stuck with him, or any random boarding school, or, you know, _prison_. The human interactions were a bit better than when he and Teddy crashed in the Lair, even if it did grate on his nerves, at times. Safe - that's what it was supposed to be, but Tommy knew that was an illusion- and a temporary, brief one at that. It was so because of him, because someone was still on his tail and out to get him, and if this kept up, he'd be endangering everyone there. Getting them involved in his mess... they were annoying with their Brady Bunch lifestyle, yes, but they didn't deserve this. And he wouldn't be the one to bring it upon them.

"Never did plan to stay this long..." He muttered, trying to convince himself this was the master-plan all along, and went to pack his things.

It was a matter of minutes, really, before Tommy had everything ready. He figured he could come back for the rest of it later, and so he pulled his bag out to the hall. He wasn't stalling, he told himself when he went to get a drink. He was thirsty, that's all, after the night's activities. It took even him too long, apparently, and the next moment he realized he wasn't alone. Looking back from the hall was none other than his twin brother (don't ask him how, it was complicated), as disheveled and unkempt as always those days. Tommy would've looked surprised, maybe even worried, but he managed to go through those emotions fast enough for Billy not to notice.

"It's either a blue moon, or the stars aligned or something, because you actually got off the window!" He was as loud as he dared given the time, but it still didn't seem to impress Billy, who stared at Tommy's bag. For a moment Tommy could've sworn it actually drew a reaction out of him, but blamed it on tricks of the light and shadow in the darkened room.

"Yeah, tell me you didn't see _that_ one coming. About time, too, this place's been cramping up my style for ages."

Tommy threw his bag over his shoulder,trying to ignore the way Billy's eyes kept following him, motionless and dim.  
"Normally I'd just have you deliver the message but I guess it's a good thing I left a note after all, huh?" Grinning weakly, Tommy tilted his head and studied Billy. There was nothing new to see there, and he grew weary of the one-sided staring contest faster than usual, even for him.  
"See you around."

Chances were that this exchange would make Billy settle more comfortably on his spot by the window, if Tommy learned anything about his brother in recent weeks. But he knew it would be nothing compared to what happened if he stayed around and ruined everything for everyone.  
He had quite enough of that, he concluded and closed the door behind him.


End file.
